


Sentimentality

by impish_nature



Series: A Step In The Wrong Direction [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gen, Grifting Stars AU, Homesickness, Rebuilding bridges, Reverse portal (Kind of), Stan falls through during NWHS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impish_nature/pseuds/impish_nature
Summary: Grifting Stars AU. After thirty years of work, thirty years of effort, Stan is finally ready to open the portal. Unfortunately for him, the world has never been fair. (AU where Stan falls through instead of Ford returning.)





	Sentimentality

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I did say I’d put them up out of order c: this one I’m happy to, others I’m not sure on yet but we’ll see what I get done this weekend I guess <3 This particular one goes with @sightkeeper‘s comic ^O^  
> http://sightkeeper.tumblr.com/post/170307584418/canon-divergence-wherein-stan-falls-into-the

A deep world weary sigh echoed out across a vast empty landscape.

Stan blinked, slipping back to reality as his voice carried, whipped up by the wind and strewn across the rocks ahead of him. He hadn't meant to make a sound, not really, completely lost in his own little world, right at the edge of another. Ford was off nearby, scribbling down some findings in his journal and he had seen his opportunity to have a quiet, thoughtful moment to himself.

And so here he was, sitting right on the edge of a ravine. It wasn't that large of a drop where he was, he wasn't a fool and neither was he that fond of heights, but the view before him really was breathtaking, so this was where he'd stopped. The sun skirted the horizon, painting the sky orange to compliment the dark ruddy earth that stretched out for miles, the only blip in the flat expanse was the silhouette of a city off in the distance made entirely from the very stone it sat upon.

He'd found himself unable to tear his eyes away from it all, gaze dancing across everything in sight as if he could commit it to memory just like Ford did in his books.

It felt good to stop for a second, to try and collect his thoughts into something coherent, or perhaps try and distract himself form them entirely. To sit on the ledge, watching it drop further and further away from him like a giant set of steps, wondering how the area around him had ever been formed. It was a question for Ford he knew, but he didn't really want to ask it, he just wanted to stop and think about impossible things and watch the world go by, if only for a few short moments.

He'd never seen anything like it.

There  _wasn't_  anything like it, at least not back home.

Maybe that's why he'd found himself there, sat staring into the middle distance, the knowledge of just how far from home he was, aching with every heart beat, with every stuttered breath. If it wasn't for the sand and grime that was coating his skin, sticking to the inside of his throat and gritting between his teeth, or the sun beating oppressively down on his shoulders and heating the ground uncomfortably beneath him, he might have hoped that this was all some vivid dream and soon enough he'd wake up, back in the Mystery Shack. Right back where he should be.

He wasn't meant to be here.

He glanced over at his brother, making sure the movement wasn't too obvious and relaxed once more when he saw him still nose deep in his book a distance away. He sighed again, thoughts of the shack bringing up other bittersweet images with it, a whiplash of happy, peaceful memories that he held dear and close to his heart but left a hole as deep as the chasm before him when he realised how far away it all was from his grasp.

He slipped a hand into his inside jacket pocket, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper that he had kept as close to his chest as the memories that it stored with it. It kept him going, through the sleepless nights and accidental arguments, it kept him from forgetting what was important and what he was fighting to get back to.

It was a constant reminder that there were people waiting for him back home, people that cared.

People that he would do anything for if they needed him and as far as he was aware they  _did_ need him and therefore that was all that mattered.

He smiled down at the two bright grins staring back at him, ran a finger over two familiar faces that he so desperately wanted to see in person once more.

_God, I miss them. I miss them so much._

He would get home to them, and he'd make sure his brother did too.

That's what he'd been telling himself every time he stared at their faces.

_Don't worry, you two, I'll find my way back to you. Just look after one another and stay safe until I do._

But for once the strength that the photo gave him didn't muster up, didn't pull at his resolution, didn't make him put on a brave face and go back to join his brother, pretending that the world was as it should be.

No... not today.

Today it just hurt.

Today it just felt like the universe was dreadfully unfair to keep them all apart.

He just wanted to hug them, he just wanted to listen to Mabel's chatter and get dragged into one of Dipper's monster hunts.

He wanted to see Soos again, maybe even be more open with him this time instead of gruffly denying the truth that he hoped they both knew was there. He wanted to scare them all by mentioning taking a day off, watch Wendy's face flit between alarm and happiness before dragging her and the rest of them out on a family adventure. Maybe even a road trip if he could wrangle it- he'd been meaning to go pay his rival tourist traps a visit before the summer was over, now all he wanted was to drag them all with him and cause some mischief that only his family would be capable of.

Hell, he'd even play that nerdy board game Dipper liked, for as long as he wanted, if only it meant being able to see them all again, to be surrounded by their warmth and affection even if most of them tried to hide at least some of their true intentions.

But it didn't matter what he wanted... not really.

Because no matter how much he wished it could be otherwise, he was stuck here and that was that.

It didn't stop him missing them though.

And it didn't stop the painful hole from growing wider with every wish he dropped down the ravine before him, hoping against hope to throw them all out of his system and get back to smiling and pretending once more.

"What have you got there?"

"Jesus!" Stan jumped out of his skin as a shadow fell over him, the amused, curious voice doing nothing for his nerves as he was forcibly ejected from his trail of thought. He lurched forward, senselessly jolting away from the threat his brain was processing even as he figured out who it was.

He heard more than saw his brother shuffling towards him quickly, realising his own mistake at the same time as his view of the world became the gaping maw below him and he yanked backwards, hoping to shift his momentum.

In that instant though he felt his grasp loosen, felt the wind tug at the precisely wrong moment and the most important photo in existence slipped out of his fingers without a second thought.

He watched it, eyes wide and panic-stricken, slowly floating further away from him in one world shattering split second.

"Shi-  _No_. No, you don't."

Against his better judgement, or any logical judgement of the situation really, he lunged forward once more, hands snatching at the piece of paper until it was safely in his hands once more. He breathed a sigh of relief, clutching the photo to himself, cursing all the while at how close that had been and what he would have done if he'd lost it, today of all days.

In hindsight, he realised how badly that moment could have gone, but really, it wasn't that far a fall to the next ledge, more a hindrance to get back up from than any real damage, and he would have taken the pain and inconvenience if it had been between that and losing the photo forever.

...He wasn't sure Ford would approve of that thought process.

It was, after all, just a photo.

But it meant more than the world to him.

"Sorry. I... didn't mean to startle you."

"Yeah, yeah I know." Stan felt Ford shuffle down beside him, crouched and awkward from the outburst and subsequent flailing. He tried to plaster on a fake smile, one that didn't reach his eyes and apparently didn't fool his brother as he caught a glimpse of his concern, his furrowing eyebrows and down turned lips. "Y-you've gotten far too good at sneaking, Sixer."

* * *

 

Ford's mouth tweaked up ever so slightly, an eyebrow raising in disbelief, though it was all covered by layer upon layer of worry. It was hard not to be alarmed when Stan was being quite so terrible at lying through his teeth. He'd watched him wear a smile like a mask before, perfect and on point for whatever the occasion called for. But now? Now it looked like it was hard pressed to even really be called a smile, shaky and threadbare at best. "No, I haven't, you've just gotten worse at overthinking. I don't think I've ever seen you so caught up in your own head."

Stan snorted, still clutching the piece of paper with a white knuckled grip. "Fair. That's... very fair." He sighed deeply, a sound that hurt Ford deep in his core, it was so cold and disappointed, and he didn't know quite how to fix whatever it was that his brother wasn't telling him.

"So... Can I see?"

"See what?" Stan blinked at him, lost all over again and in any other situation Ford might have laughed at how easily his brother was being distracted from reality.

After all, according to Stan himself, that was  _Ford's_  job.

"Whatever it is that's important enough to risk life and limb over." Ford rolled his eyes affectionately, no harm done though Stan's face shifted guiltily at his words. Ford found himself smiling softly, still crouched beside him though making himself comfortable. "Don't worry. I wasn't about to let you go over."

"Good- that's good to hear." Stan seemed distracted all over again, face warring with itself as he glanced down at his hands.

"It's OK, if you don't want to show me." Ford couldn't help but let his words turn soft, slightly hurt but understanding that his words might have been taken as a scolding tone. "I- was just curious. Wondered what would hold your attention for so long." He nudged his brother's shoulder playfully, nervous at the sullen slump he had fallen into.

"Of course you were. When are you not curious?"

Ford couldn't help but relax, smiling brightly as Stan finally caved and bantered back, even if it wasn't quite an wholeheartedly as it normally would have been.

He let it slide as Stan slowly moved, pulling his hands away from his chest to show him two smiling children, gleaming brightly out of the well loved page.

His smile turned soft, quiet and hopeful as he took in every little of detail of their faces. "Are these the kids you've been telling me so much about?"

Stan hummed, his smile finally more genuine, even if it held a sad shimmer to his eyes. "Heh, yeah. That's them. Little firecrackers, let me tell you."

"You have. Repeatedly."

"Good." Stan nodded to himself. "Good, 'cause one day I really want you to meet them." He grinned, cheeky and childish, though it wobbled where it sat, eyes scrunched ever so slightly as if to keep something else at bay. "And unless you're ready for the little whirlwinds they're gonna have you well and truly wrapped around their little fingers."

"Just like you, you mean?"

Stan's face dropped then, Ford's heart falling through the ground with it. It wasn't even that he stopped smiling, it was more like it shattered across his face, stuck fast only through force of willpower as his lip continued to wobble precariously. "Y-yeah. Yeah, like me. Got me well and truly..." He sighed, scrubbing at his eyes, knocking his glasses askew with the movement.

Ford felt his jaw go slack, his eyes widening ever so slightly as the full scale of the situation finally burst around him.

Was Stan  _crying_?

Stan didn't cry.

All the signs had been there, that this was brewing on the horizon, but he still hadn't seen it coming, still hadn't thought for a moment that Stan would-

"So-Sorry. Getting sentimental in my old age, is all."

"You don't have to apologise for that."

Stan huffed, shaking his head. "Don't I?" He scrubbed harder at his eyes, as if applying more pressure would stop any more tears from falling, push all the emotion and thoughts back into his skull. "I  _miss_  them, Sixer."

"I know. I'd miss them too."

Stan let out a hysterical chuckle, nodding with him as he shook, words fumbling out of him as if he couldn't stop them falling either. "You really would, Sixer. I can't wait for you to- Gah, this is so stupid. I usually hate all this sentimental- why can't I stop-"

"Shh, shh it's OK-"

"It's  _not_  though."

Ford huffed, a sad, distressed sound that made Stan flinch beside him, though he did at least go shamefully quiet. He run a hand through his hair, shuffling to sit down beside his brother and settle there.

Perhaps if Stan was being painfully honest, he should be too.

He could tell that it was called for, and if anything was worth doing right, it was this moment right here.

He took a deep breath, hand going to his own inner jacket pocket with a pang of weariness.

How many times had he done this over the years? How many times had he pulled out a dog-eared photo and wondered how things could have gone differently?

How many times had he wished that he wasn't quite so alone anymore and been grateful for the small sliver of solace the photo brought? The comfort of old happy memories to tug away the hopeless despair that gripped him?

"You're not the only one who gets sentimental, Stan."

"What's this?"

"Why don't you take a look?" Ford held out the photo, waiting for Stan to hesitantly reach towards him and take it.

There was a pregnant pause, a wide eyed moment of what Ford could only assume was disbelief as Stan stared at a much younger version of himself.

He watched as eyes raked over it, taking in every detail just as he had with the kids, even though Stan had seen this photo before, it was like he was committing it to memory all over again.

Or maybe he had just slipped back in time, much like he did himself whenever he stared at the photo for long enough. Felt the aches and pains of his age lift, felt sand and salt water between his toes and the prickle of sun burn on his shoulders. Heard the rush of the waves, the song of the seagulls and two distinct gleeful sets of laughter that had filtered through every single one of his childhood memories.

Two kids, lost in a dream, lost in an adventure, where a rotten, falling apart shipwreck was going to take them far far away to a place where they'd never be scared or hurt again. Where they could be themselves and no one and nothing would ever be able to stop them.

The world had made so much more sense back then. It had seemed so much brighter, had been just as big as it was now but far less daunting and more comforting in the scale of the adventures they were about to set out on.

Ford watched as the floodgates really opened then, as everything that Ford wanted to convey in that moment came crashing down around him. Watched as Stan curled inwards, his face crumpling, stifling the noise he wanted to make with the back of the hand still holding the photo of the twins, and Ford could do nothing more than rest his hand on his brother's back, rubbing up and down soothingly as his brother shook.

Maybe this was a good thing. He wondered when Stan had last let himself be vulnerable, last let himself open up and cry in front of another person.

Knowing his brother- probably not since they were kids. Probably around the same time that photo had been taken.

He gave in himself then, let himself tug his brother closer into a one armed hug, wanting to comfort him just as they had done for one another all those years ago.

"We'll find a way back to them, you know that, don't you?"

"I hope so."

"No. No hope. We will." He squeezed tighter, making sure Stan felt his resolve and strength through the hold. "We'll find a way back home and- I'll finally get to meet them."

"...Yeah, you're right. We can- we will do that."

Ford nodded, a happy hum escaping him as the voice near his ear finally got back the spark that made his brother himself again.

Optimistic and foolishly hopeful, that was his brother. Stubborn and resourceful, never backing down without a fight.

And he wouldn't want him to be any other way, it was so Stan to always believe there was a way forward, to be ready to gamble even on the slimmest chance that they could beat all the odds and do the impossible.

Just this once, he wanted to believe it too. Didn't want to think of every little obstacle the world would throw in their way.

He wanted to believe, after thirty years of denying himself the luxury, that they could go home without worrying about the consequences.

Stan took a shaky breath, leaning into the arm encircling him.

"God, I missed you, Sixer." He swallowed loudly, like there was something stuck in his throat that it was hard to get past. "I know we've been travelling together again for a while, but it's hit me again just how much I missed all this over the years as well. Thought you should know that- while I'm being sentimental anyway."

Ford felt like something inside him break at the warbling voice, a cascade of emotion flooding through the cracks in all the parts of himself he had hidden away over the years.

The last few months had been... fun, more fun than he'd have ever possibly imagined.

There was something about having his brother back at his side, as flimsy as their relationship was, that just made him... hope again.

It filled him with optimism, filled him with the sense of adventure that had long been lost to survival and struggle.

Now... it didn't feel as much of a hardship anymore, this travelling wherever the universe led them.

At least wherever they went, they went together now.

Ford shuffled closer, a deep sigh on his lips as he rested his head against his brother's shoulder. "I missed you too."

"...Really?"

Ford frowned, a grumpy noise escaping him. "Of course. I might have been angry but- I still missed you."

Stan seemed to relax at that, seemed to shake ever so slightly again as if the confession had pulled away the final layer that he had been so desperately trying not to hope for.

Ford heard his brother sniff, loudly, struggling hard to will the emotions away. He didn't say anything, let him have his moment. Let him get all the pent up emotion out, let it overflow and drain away, he knew it had taken him a while to let it all out as well, all that time ago.

"Today's our birthday."

Ford blinked, the admission not anything he had expected as he held tight to his brother's shoulder. "What was that?"

"Today." Stan huffed, another soft sniff that he tried to disguise fruitlessly, loud and heavy in Ford's ear. "At least- I think it is. I've been marking down the days I've been here, just keeping a tally so I know in that old notebook you gave me-"

Ford couldn't help but wince as Stan stuttered to a halt, tried to make sure he didn't notice as his heart fell in sympathy, leaving a cold trail through his core.

He remembered doing that.

He remembered making mark upon mark on the back page of his journal, until he gave up, the strange optimism dropping with every line, the tracking becoming too much of a disappointing burden to his soul.

They'd become meaningless, each line another reminder of another day that had become another week and another month, blurring together into a long stretch of time that he no longer wanted to know the exact dimensions of.

So he'd just... stopped.

He hadn't realised Stan had taken up the mantle as soon as he'd come through. Hadn't thought to tell him that it was pointless, that all the action would do was hurt him in the end.

"So, I might be wrong, I might have- I don't get how it's so hard to keep track of. I probably forgot to write one day, or maybe I tallied it up twice on another- maybe, I don't know. But I do know what day I fell through. And if I am right then- yeah, it's today."

"You still celebrate it?"

The words came out before he could stop them and he could almost feel the 'you don't?' question in response.

But Stan just shuffled uneasily, a choked out laugh ringing between the small enclosed space they'd made for themselves, curling up against one another against the vastness of the chasm before them. "I- not really. Not to any extent. But we were going to celebrate the kids birthday while they were staying with me- that birthday I'd never forget. Height of summer, one of the best days of my life that news." His smile turned soft, nostalgia and hope mixed in equal measures and Ford couldn't help but smile with him. "Anyway, the first day they were with me, Mabel circled it on the calendar and asked when mine was. When I told them she scribbled it down in her calendar and told me that they'd make sure to have a party for me too." The smile turned sadder, his hand tightening on the small photo. "Didn't matter how much I told her over the summer that I didn't need one, she would always say 'no ones allowed to be alone on their birthday! Not even you!'"

Ford chuckled next to him, a low pleased sound at the gesture.

She sounded like a great kid.

Not that they hadn't already from Stan's stories.

"I was... I was actually looking forward to it, this year." Stan's smile vanished entirely and Ford couldn't help the way his arm curled tighter around him in response. "I mean, I had high hopes that we'd- I mean that you'd be back but... even if I wasn't able to get you back, I was still looking forward to the pair of them wanting to..."

A poignant pause filled the air, the sentiment behind the words obvious and painfully bittersweet in the circumstances.

"Well, at least there's one thing."

Stan sniffed, scrubbing at his face as Ford pulled away from him. "Yeah?"

Ford stood up, dusting himself off before holding a hand out towards Stan awkwardly. "Neither of us are spending it alone."

Stan blinked at him, mouth slack jawed and eyes wide before his lip wobbled and his eyes crinkled happily. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess that's true." He took hold of Ford's hand, letting him pull him up with a bit of help, clapping him on the shoulder in thanks.

"Definitely true." Ford hummed, face thoughtful as he continued. "And, you never know- maybe if one of our ideas works, we might be able to get back to them and have two birthdays this year."

Stan barked, a sharp happy laugh that made Ford grin wider. "To be honest, no matter what time we go back Mabel will insist on a birthday party. Probably a joint one as we've now missed their's as well." His laughter continued as he shook his head, appraising his brother while his hands went to his hips. "In fact, she'll probably want to celebrate all the birthdays you've missed while you've been away."

Ford clapped. "All the better then! We'll have the biggest party ever when we get back. But for now-"

His face turned abruptly awkward, the vastness of the years between them and the obvious concern of having no idea what he was doing ringing through every movement.

"Would you- should we try and find some way to celebrate? Just us two? I-If it is our birthday, after all, we should probably do something special-"

"Heh, well if I cant have the biggest party ever for my birthday right now at this very moment- I think spending it with my brother is a close second best."

Ford relaxed instantly, eyes bright and smile soft. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing really came out other than an agreeing happy noise.

Stan coughed, rolling his eyes as he did so, though the smile on his face would not budge as they began their trek, hoping they'd find somewhere to have some celebrations. "...We really have gotten sentimental, haven't we?"

"Maybe... But I guess a little sentimentality never did anyone any harm."

Stan made a reproachful noise, feet stumbling to a halt and his brother following suit with a perplexed raised eyebrow. He pointed at his brother, face as stern as he could make it, though a smile kept trying to slip through. "Under no circumstances are you allowed to tell Mabel about this. She'll have a field day- and now that you mention it I'm pretty sure I  _did_  tell her that being sentimental was harmful to my health at least once- among other things."

"Hmm~" Ford's grin turned mischievous, turning away from Stan as he continued to move forward. "Well then, you'll just have to find me a very good birthday present, now, won't you?"

"Haha, very funny."

"...If you're going to have that kind of attitude, maybe it should be thirty years worth of presents."

"...You're joking. Right, Sixer?"

"Maybe, but do you really want to test that theory?"

"You know what, I take it back. I haven't missed any of this over the years."

"Yes, you did."

Stan huffed, a small endearing, exasperated noise at his now hyperactive nerd of a brother. "Yeah. Yeah, guess I did."


End file.
